When two dead bodies
are discovered in the old dilapidated gatehouse on the Horsfield estate,
not only does it spark fear and panic throughout the otherwise peaceful
Chillingley village, but it sets off a chain reaction of suspicion. Who
in such a cozy rural backwater, where everyone knows everyone else’s
business, could possibly have been driven to murder, and why?
As more bodies pile up, and as detectives flounder in their efforts to stop the crime wave and track down those responsible, a plucky band of local heroes embarks on their own perilous mission to solve the mystery of Horsfield Lodge.
As more bodies pile up, and as detectives flounder in their efforts to stop the crime wave and track down those responsible, a plucky band of local heroes embarks on their own perilous mission to solve the mystery of Horsfield Lodge.
Cash Peters has a unique knack of creating just the right scenes to make his characters shine, be it their awkwardness, their wit, or their fear. I loved the first book of his that I read, Force of Habit, so I was thrilled to get my hands on a copy of Horror at Horsfield Lodge.
Set in a small, quaint British village, gossip abounds and the cast of characters are eccentric. When two dead bodies appear at the deserted Horsfield Lodge, like any small town, rumors abound and some begin their own investigations. Muriel is a bartender and her friend, Lydia, is receiving threats. On top of the bodies, Muriel decides to take things into her own hands, so she partners up with a local hairdresser to get to the bottom of the threats. What they don't expect is more deaths, more creepier than the first two.
It sounds steeped in mystery, and it is, but it is balanced with humor. The murderers are working from a how-to book and the comrade between the characters sometimes borders on asinine. The ensemble blends perfectly into a page-turning novel that mystery readers are sure to enjoy. I love Peter's writing and can't wait for the next one!
*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
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